Fighting Words
by slackerD
Summary: The last thing Marisa expected when she changes shifts was a puzzle. But she definitely has one as she tries to figure out why her boss always seems to pick a fight with a certain customer.


**Title:** Fighting Words  
**Author:** slacker_d  
**Pairing/Characters:** Beca/Aubrey, OCs  
**Summary:** The last thing Marisa expected when she changes shifts was a puzzle. But she definitely has one as she tries to figure out why her boss always seems to pick a fight with a certain customer.  
**Word Count:** 2,947

* * *

Though she's only been a barista at I Wanna Be Caffeinated for two months, Marisa really enjoys working there. Her hours are flexible, her coworkers are cool and it pays well; plus, the owner, Beca, is a decent boss.

As summer begins winding down, Marisa realizes that taking eighteen credits next semester means that she's definitely going to have to cut down on hours. So one afternoon after she's clocked out, she approaches Beca, hoping to change her schedule starting next month.

Luckily Beca has no problem with Marisa only working fifteen hours a week instead of the thirty-five she currently is. She and Beca sit down to look over the schedule and after some discussion, it's decided that she'll open on Mondays and close on Thursdays.

Once it's settled, Marisa thanks Beca profusely, but Beca assures her that everyone's schedules will need to change when the school year starts and there shouldn't be any issues getting all the shifts covered.

"Plus, didn't you noticed the help wanted sign I put up the other day?"

Marisa hadn't, but the knowledge just adds to her relief as Beca's cell phone rings.

"Sorry, gotta take this," Beca says, glancing at it.

Marisa nods, standing and quickly exits Beca's office, hearing Beca excitedly congratulating someone as the door clicks shut.

**…**

The first Monday Marisa opens, she's surprised to find Beca already there. Over the summer, Marisa had only opened on Saturday and Sundays, so she didn't realize that Beca actually helps open a few times during the week. She supposes it makes sense. Laura, the manager, can't be there all the time.

They fall into a pretty easy rhythm, Beca running the register and Marisa making the drinks. Monday mornings are hectic—apparently everyone needs coffee after the weekend—and the shift flies by as Marisa stays busy the entire time. Even when Jason comes in a few hours later, the morning is still crazy busy.

Just as with every shift, there are regulars and so mornings become a little less hectic as she learns people's orders and is able to anticipate. However, the fourth Monday that Marisa opens begins very strangely.

The first customer of the day walks in the moment the door is unlocked. She's a tall, stern looking blonde in a power suit who walks in like she owns the place. Striding quickly to the register, she demands a nonfat vanilla latte with an extra shot. Beca greets her, enters her order and states the total. The blonde questions the price as she pulls out her credit card. Beca swipes the card, explaining that the slightly higher drink prices mean the employees can be paid better and lessens the need for tips. The blonde scoffs as her card and receipt is handed to her.

"Something you'd like to say?" Beca asks.

The blonde's answer is inaudible as she leans in closer. Beca's response is just as quiet and Marisa watches in disbelief as the conversation quickly becomes heated. It only lasts a minute, though Marisa hears none of it, and ends with Beca asking what name to write on the cup.

Oddly, Marisa actually hears the blonde's response of, "Aubrey." Beca nods and scribbles on the cup. She then—to Marisa's surprise—makes the drink herself. Marisa worries that she'll have to take the register—which she can totally do, but would rather not. But the latte is made quickly and mere moments later, Beca is calling out, "Audrey."

This earns an angry huff as the blonde snatches her drink out of Beca's hand and stalks out of the store. Beca, grinning, returns to the register just as two more customers enter.

**…**

The next time Marisa sees the blonde, it's two weeks later. Once again, she enters the moment the doors are unlocked. Beca greets her and enters her drink into the register, though Marisa doesn't actually here the blonde order anything. Instead, the blonde immediately points out that the doors were opened at 5:01.

Beca rolls her eyes, accepting the credit card from the blonde. "If your schedule is so tight that a minute matters that much, then maybe—"

"We all can't be lackadaisical hippies who can't tell time," the blonde retorts as she is handed her card and receipt.

"A hippie? _Seriously_?" Beca scoffs, her voice thick with irritation.

The blonde smirks.

"Did you ever think about how much time you're wasting complaining?" Beca questions as she scribbles on a coffee cup. "Maybe the blame for your upset schedule lies with you." The paper cup is slammed on the counter with that statement.

Marisa is caught off guard when the blonde actually growls. So while she and Beca glare at each other—getting as physically close as possible with the counter between them—Maria quickly makes the latte.

The tension in the air is making Marisa a bit anxious, so she can't recall the blonde's name. She glances down at what Beca wrote and calls out, "Nonfat vanilla latte, extra shot for Ashley."

The blonde whips to face her, eyes blazing. Marisa's glad that she's standing far enough out of the blonde's strangling range as she, who is obviously _not_ named Ashley, grabs her coffee and exits.

Confused about the entire situation, Marisa looks at Beca.

In return, Beca just shrugs. "So that happened."

Marisa's not sure, but Beca seems pleased by the encounter, which doesn't seem like the right reaction.

**…**

The blonde is back a week later when the door is unlocked at 4:59; a fact that doesn't go unnoticed by the blonde, judging by the smirk on her face as she strolls up to the register.

Beca once again greets her cheerfully as Marisa begins to wonder who this blonde is. Especially as she immediately begins to complain about the horrible customer service she's been receiving.

Beca replies that all feedback is welcome and would ma'am like to fill out a comment card?

"Ma'am?" the blond hisses. "For serious?"

"Is that a no?" Beca grins punching in the blonde's order.

Watching the credit card being swiped and returned, Marisa realizes that Beca obviously knows her drink and that has to mean something.

"Considering I've already made my concerns known—"

"Oh, you mean your complaints?" Beca interjects as she writes on the paper cup. "Because I thought those were just symptoms of a lack of caffeine." The coffee cup is once again slammed onto the counter.

Marisa moves to grab it, but Beca stops her.

"Let me," she says, though her eyes are still on the blonde. "I want to make sure you receive the proper customer service." Marisa and the blonde watch her make a nonfat vanilla latte in silence. "Besides," Beca continues once she's finished. "We can both agree that last week's misdirection of anger towards Marisa was uncalled for. Right," Beca glances at the name written on the cup and Marisa winces in anticipation. "_Amy_?"

Though clearly irritated as she accepts the cup, the blonde takes a deep breath and turns to Marisa.

"I'm sorry for taking my anger out on you," she says. "It's not your fault that you work for an uncreative, disorganized, jerk off."

"Uh, thanks," Marisa replies, glancing at Because who obviously doesn't appreciate being called a jerk off.

Beca's reaction seems to please the blonde, who takes a sip of her coffee and glides out.

Beca returns to the register grumbling angrily and though she can't be sure, she thinks she hears Beca mutter, "You've won this round, Poison."

Marisa is definitely missing something.

**…**

The blonde doesn't return for three weeks. This time, she rushes in a full ten minutes after the doors are unlocked.

"Running a bit late this morning, I see," Beca greets.

The blonde is obviously stressed today and so Marisa doesn't understand why Beca wants to provoke her.

"Figured you'd be opening late again," the blonde retorts. "This way I don't have to waste time waiting."

"Yeah, that precious schedule of yours," Beca scoffs, punching in her order.

Handing over her credit card, the blonde says, "I'm surprised you're able to actually run a successful business since you're obviously barely proficient." She accepts her card and receipt. "I feel bad for your partner," she adds, gesturing to Beca's wedding ring.

"I haven't heard any complaints," Beca replies.

"Probably because you aren't listening," the blonde says.

Beca's response is an actual growl as she scribbles a name on the cup.

Marisa doesn't move, not sure if she should offer to make it. When someone else enters, Beca has no choice but to let Marisa make the latte.

Marisa does so quickly, figuring the sooner the blonde is gone the better. She has a feeling that a dig at Beca's marriage won't go unchallenged. Plus, there's no telling what name Beca wrote on the cup or the response it'll invoke.

Because there are others in the shop, Marisa calls out what is written in the cup, "Nonfat, vanilla latte, extra shot for... Ace of Base," cringing at the scowl on the blonde's face and the chuckle coming from Beca.

"_Really_?" the blonde snaps at Beca.

Beca just grins and says, "Have a nice day."

The blonde stomps out as Marisa is given another coffee to make.

"She's a feisty one," Jake, one of the regulars, comments.

"Yeah, well that's why I—"

The rest of Beca's reply is lost over the hiss of Marisa steaming the milk for a cappuccino. If there hadn't been a line forming, she would had waited a few more seconds. She can't imagine what Beca's response was going to be, but Marisa knows it would have been the piece she's missing.

**…**

Three weeks later, Marisa is spending her weekend frantically studying for her finals. Eighteen credits, what the hell was she thinking? Obviously she wasn't.

Though not as quiet as the library, Marisa does all her studying at I Wanna Be Caffeinated. She doesn't mind the noise, finds it easier to concentrate actually. Plus, she gets free coffee as long as she doesn't order during a rush. Otherwise, the employee discount is thirty percent. This is both good and bad. She's become much more of a coffee drinker since she started working here. She mostly drinks caffe lattes, but as she studies, she's been rotating drinks.

Today's drink is the caramel macchiato, and she definitely needs another one. Looking up, Marisa hopes there aren't too many customers, so she doesn't have to wait too long. She can already feel herself starting to drag.

There are only two and Marisa can't help but stare. It's the blonde—whose name Marisa still doesn't remember—and a cheerful seeming red head.

"That total doesn't seem right," the blonde is saying, credit card out, but still tightly in her hand.

"It's with the employee discount, Ms. Posen," Jeremy stammers.

The blonde sighs. "Jeremy, we're talked about this. First, it's Aubrey."

Aubrey, right. Now she remembers.

"And, second, you don't have to give me the employee discount," she—Aubrey continues.

Marisa is impressed with Jeremy's ability to look both embarrassed and determined.

"I know, but I don't understand," he sputters. "I mean, you're—"

"Jeremy!" Laura, the manager, interrupts. "We've talked about this. Several times." She joins him at the register. "Sorry, Aubrey," she says, making the adjustments on the till.

Aubrey nods at the new total and hands over her card. Laura swipes it as Jeremy writes on two cups. She takes them from him with a glare and goes to the bar to make them.

Trying to be discreet, Marisa eavesdrops as the blonde—Aubrey, Marisa reminds herself, and the red head wait for their drinks.

"Explain to me again why you don't get a discount," the red head says.

"Because, Chloe," Aubrey replies. "I'm not an employee."

"Well obviously," Chloe huffs. "But it still doesn't make sense that you have to pay. Isn't it like redundant or something?"

"How is it redundant?" Aubrey asks.

"Seriously, Bree?" Chloe scoffs. "Because technically it just comes back to you. It's like unnecessarily adding a middle man to the process."

"Chloe."

"I mean, I get why Jeremy would be confused," Chloe continues.

Laura calling their names, ends the conversation. Marisa stares in confusion—feeling stupid—because she's definitely missing something obvious. She blames it on all the studying and her over caffeination.

Once Aubrey and Chloe are gone and the store is mostly empty, Marisa stands and asks Laura to make her another caramel macchiato.

"So what was up with that?" she asks Laura, once she has her drink. "Jeremy giving that woman a discount when he's not supposed to? Who was that?"

"You're joking, right, " Laura asks, incredulously.

"Uh, no, I'm not," Marisa says. "Who was that?"

"Aubrey is Beca's wife," Laura states. "How did you not know that?"

"How would I know that?" Marisa asks.

"Because she comes in all the time," Laura explains. "Like almost every day. You have to have seen her during the week."

"Yeah, I have, but I didn't know who she was," Marisa protests. "They're _married_?"

Laura nods.

"But they argue," Marisa says. "Every time. Intensely. And they don't act like they're married in the mornings."

"Yeah, I guess arguing is like their thing," Laura replies. "I don't get it either, but they've apparently been married for more than seven years, so who am I to question it. Especially since I guess they've been together for almost ten."

"Jesus, " Marisa mutters.

"Yeah," Laura agrees.

Clutching her drink, Marisa somehow makes it back to her seat, still reeling from the revelation. Thinking about, she supposes the clues were there and she just didn't put it together, except that the entire situation seems so odd to her.

Still, she doesn't have time to figure it out. She's supposed to be studying. Plus, she supposes she can ask Beca about it tomorrow when they open. Marisa groans at this realization. She's going to have a lot of trouble falling asleep tonight.

**…**

The next morning, when Aubrey makes an appearance, Marisa studies their interaction in a different light. The pair quickly descend into an argument as Beca enters her order and swipes her credit card. Feeling more amused than tense this time, Marisa watches Beca write on the coffee cup while they argue about the music currently playing.

Beca apparently has very strict rules about what kind of Christmas music will be played in the store. She's heard the spiel many times over the past couple weeks as Beca explains her reasoning behind only playing instrumental Christmas music. So she takes the cup from where Beca's set it and begins making Aubrey's drink.

"...what you have against Christmas music," Aubrey questions.

"As I've stated before," Beca starts. "I have nothing against Christmas music. But since we have to listen to it for hours on end, I'd prefer it be instrumental."

"No one's forcing you to be here," Aubrey retorts.

"You would just tell me to leave," Beca scoffs.

"Well I'd certainly get better service, I'm sure," Aubrey returns, arms now crossed.

"Nonfat vanilla latte, extra shot for..." Marisa sighs. "Rump shaker."

Aubrey glowers at Beca, who glares right back and even knowing what she does, Marisa's still a bit uneasy. Deciding that whatever it is that they're doing is private, Marisa carefully backs away and goes to clean up the mess that isn't there from making Aubrey's latte.

A few moments later, the blonde stalks out, grumbling under her breath.

Marisa glances over at Beca who grins as the door swings open and another customer sweeps in.

**…**

"Can I ask you something?" Marisa asks during the first lull.

"I can't stop you," Beca replies, leaning against the counter.

"Uh, okay." It's been months of working with her and yet Marisa's still getting used to Beca's flippancy. "What's the deal with you and Aubrey?"

"The deal?"

Marisa nods, not sure if she should continue, but she's feeling brave. "Yeah. She comes in here, pretends to be a stranger and starts an argument with you. And then you put the wrong name on her coffee cup."

Still leaning against the counter, Beca shrugs. "We like arguing with each other. We've been doing it since the day we met. The name thing? Just another way to annoy her."

"Okay." Marisa still feels like she's missing something.

"Aubrey travels for work," Beca explains. "It's because she recently got a promotion, which is awesome; but it also means that she's gone for a week or more at a time. So, before her flight leaves in the morning, she stops by for some coffee and one last bit of arguing before she goes."

"Oh." It's sweet. In a weird way. "That's... uh, nice, I guess."

Beca chuckles. "I know how it sounds. And I know it sometimes gets uncomfortable, so I apologize for that. I kind of forgot to explain it to you when you switched shifts."

"Is that why she pays the normal price?" Marisa asks.

"Mostly."

"And everyone knows she's your wife?" Marisa presses.

"Pretty much."

"And no one questions why you're so mean to each other?"

"They're used to it," Beca assures her. "I know it seems like we're going overboard sometimes, but we know where the lines are and we don't cross them."

The door opening for another wave of customers ends the conversation; though Marisa really can't think of anything else to ask—plus she figures that the frankness from Beca was probably temporary—and she has her answers, mostly. So instead she lets herself fall back into worrying about passing all her finals this week.


End file.
